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They’re arguing in the distance. My mother is saying something and Aziz Mama is staring across her, his jaw hard. I don't want to intrude, so I walk around them, keeping my distance.

Published in The Readingroom July 2019. Longlisted for the Commonwealth Short Story Prize, 2019.

We shivered in the windblown rain despite the chhang in our blood. Planes flew like showers of stars searching for us in their flickering tail lights. We hunkered in the darkness of empty seats, rows upon rows of them, lying on our backs, waiting for the crash from the unimaginable future.

Published in The Hindu BusinessLine January, 2019.

I can see you under that dirty yellow bulb, you’re scrubbing viciously, scraping and soaping as if you’re made of dirt. I’m afraid to call out to you. All I can do is to stand there, unable to run away, while Ma whispers frantically from behind, what happened? What happened?

Winner, Dastaan Award 2016 

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